


A Whisper of a Touch

by Delightful_I_Am



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison Argent & Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, M/M, Multi, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delightful_I_Am/pseuds/Delightful_I_Am
Summary: It started innocently enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was just something I've had in my mind for a bit. Apologies if this is incoherent dribble, it's well past midnight and I really should be sleeping. Enjoy!

It started innocently enough. Stiles was telling them all the horrible things that could go wrong with their latest shitfest; waving his arms emphatically and pacing back and forth. He was getting more and more worked up, breath starting to come in little hitches, pulse quickly skyrocketing to a level that probably would have killed any normal human being. His pacing was becoming more and more erratic, bringing him closer to the table where Scott and Derek were trying to plan around the sounds of Stiles' complaining when Derek shifted his stance and his fingers grazed across Stiles' wrist. It was such a small touch, almost as if Derek's hand just happened to be in the way of Stiles' flailing limbs, but Stiles instantly calmed down; his heart slowed to a normal pace, and his breath evened out. He kept speaking, not even faltering in his stride as he kept up his commentary on their plan, seemingly unaware of his complete emotional turn around.

The next time, the whole pack was gathered at the loft, casually arguing over what movie to watch. Stiles was vehemently defending Star Wars as a valid option -  _yes I know there's six movies, Erica, that's the point!_ \- while Scott was agreeing with whatever Allison wanted. Isaac and Boyd were staying out of it, and Derek was sitting beside Stiles, ignoring everyone. Well, trying to ignore everyone. He was getting more and more irritated; Stiles' arms were in serious danger of hurting someone, and Erica was practically snarling at Stiles, although with no real heat behind it. They had just resorted to petty name calling, when Derek had had just about enough. His eyes snapped open, and he was fully prepared to growl them all in to silence, when Stiles flung himself back, arms flopping down beside him; one landed in his own lap, and the other ended up wedged between his and Derek's legs. Derek suddenly found he absolutely did not have the energy to care and huffed out a low order to  _just pick one already_ and that was that. 

Another time, the pack was once again gathered at the loft, Isaac and Scott sprawled out on the couch moaning about how full they were. Lydia was braiding Erica's hair while Erica painted Boyd's nails; something he was accepting with a pained sort of resignation. Stiles was at the table, a look of concentration on his face so intense that Derek could practically feel it. He was researching ways to kill faeries, of all things, and he was getting absolutely nowhere. Derek left the room for a few minutes, listening to Stiles ask if anyone had managed to get a good look at what types of faeries they were. By the time he came back out, Scott and Isaac were asleep and Stiles looked ready to murder his computer and anyone within a twelve foot radius. Derek walked past, headed to the kitchen, when Stiles let out a particularly frustrated groan and launched himself out of the chair. Derek just barely managed to move out of the way, even so, his hand still managed to come into contact with Stiles' neck. He was already continuing to the kitchen, not seeing the way Stiles's body just sagged, almost with relief.

The first time Stiles became aware of it, was after a particularly brutal fight with a rogue werewolf. He'd been excessively vicious, managing to take them by surprise; taking down Erica and Isaac before they even knew he was there. Scott and Boyd had flanked him, trying to circle around behind while Derek kept his attention on him, but the guy had had other ideas. He'd gone for Stiles, who was hanging back, guarding Erica and Isaac. It was all a bit of a blur for Stiles after that, but he's pretty sure Derek had torn the guy apart, with no small amount of help from Scott and Boyd. Stiles had been shaking, body tense and shock rendering him speechless. Scott had tried to get him to speak, but it had taken Derek's hand ghosting over his shoulder to finally get him to breathe properly. He only noticed as they were walking out of the forest that Derek's hand was still on his shoulder, a barely there whisper that Stiles could feel right down to his toes. He looked up at Derek, but he seemed completely unaware he was even beside Stiles, let alone touching him.

The first time Derek realised what was happening, Stiles was the only other person there. Derek didn't know Stiles was still there; the rest of the pack had left after being patched up after an ambush involving some disgruntled hunters, and Isaac was squirrelled away in his room listening to his obnoxiously loud music. So Derek thought he was quite safe to sit on the couch and put his head in his hands, taking long, shuddering breaths to try to calm himself. Stiles had come back for his keys, which had somehow fallen out of his pocket at some point during the kerfuffle that was trying to get Boyd to stay still long enough to make sure nothing was lodged in his wounds. He was completely unprepared for the sight of Derek, back to the door, hunched over and looking absolutely exhausted. He stayed still for a few moments, wondering how on earth Derek couldn't hear him standing there, before crossing the room, and resting his hand on the top of Derek's head. Derek flinched, startled, before relaxing. It wasn't until he leaned into Stiles' touch that he realised what was happening. He looked up at Stiles, confusion clear on his face. Stiles just shrugged and ruffled his hair gently before letting him go, picking up his keys, and leaving quietly. Derek stared at the door for an hour.

After that, though no word passed between them, they seemed to come to an agreement; whenever they were in the same room, with or without the pack, they found ways to be near each other. If it was movie night, Stiles would press himself against Derek's side; if they were planning something and Stiles was hunched over his computer, Derek would rest his hand on Stiles' back when he leaned over to listen to his explanations. Even if they were fighting something, one or the other of them would reach out to brush their finger across the back of a hand, or shoulder. Sometimes when they were in the middle of an argument, they would stop, look at each other and move as though to brush past, but always, always, Derek's hand would grab Stiles' arm and Stiles would move into the hold before moving through it. Sometimes, it was an insignificant touch, like Stiles running his fingertips along the sleeve of Derek's jacket, and sometimes it was Derek shoving him against a wall and growling at him while Stiles just pressed a hand to Derek's chest where the others couldn't see. And sometimes it was just leaning on each other; after a fight, or during research, even just after a long day. Stiles would drape himself over Derek's back, face pressed into his shoulder, or Derek would lean on Stiles instead of a wall. It took a few months, but eventually they started falling asleep on each other. The pack got used to finding them curled into each other an any vaguely comfortable surface in the loft; and if Erica sometimes draped a blanket over them, or Isaac shooed the rest out of the loft, they never mentioned it.

It wasn't long after that Stiles would come home from school to find Derek waiting, a tense set to his shoulders; or Derek would wake up in the middle of the night to find Stiles asleep on the edge of his bed. They never stopped to question it, it came as easily as breathing. Stiles would climb over Derek, throwing his bag to the ground, and they would just lie on his bed, fingers grazing hips, one of Stiles' legs thrown over Derek's; or Derek would scoop Stiles up and pull his blankets over them both, tucking Stiles against his chest. Soon they couldn't sleep properly without the other there with them.

The first time they kissed, neither of them was really surprised. It had been a long, bloody, exhausting battle, and Stiles had rushed over to Derek, hands running over arms and chest, making sure Derek was unhurt. He'd stopped when Derek gently gripped his wrists, thumbs rubbing circles on the soft skin. Stiles had sobbed, a shaky, trembling sound, and pressed his lips to Derek's; his arms had slipped around his neck and Derek's had moved down to encircle his waist. Stiles was whispering against Derek's lips, soft sounds of distress and comfort, and Derek just pulled him tighter, kissing him harder. The rest of the pack averted their eyes, but Isaac was beaming and Erica was wiping at her eyes. Boyd just muttered an exasperated  _finally_ while Scott stared wide-eyed at a tree off to one side. Stiles seemed to melt into Derek, burying his face in his shoulder while Derek ran a hand through his hair, quietly telling him he was alright. They were alright.


End file.
